


Distant Stars

by Starcrossedjedis



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, featuring the galaxy's dreamiest pilot, self-indulgent Anastasia fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcrossedjedis/pseuds/Starcrossedjedis
Summary: When Poe Dameron finds himself on the remote planet of Lok - injured, hunted by the First Order and without back up - he is saved by a street thief named Cassia. Realising the young woman could be a dead ringer for the missing crown princess of the Aquilean System, Poe hatches a desperate escape plan. With unforeseen consequences for him... and Cassia.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Distant Stars

**I.**

“ _Be the light.”_

Poe Dameron had spent quite some time wondering what Maz Kanata's parting words to him on Ephemera could have meant. In the grand scheme of things. To the Resistance.

To himself.

Wasn't it exactly what they were trying to do? Carrying the light out into the galaxy, as they travelled from planet to planet, trying to find allies in their fight against the First Order?

Wasn't this why he had sent Jess and Suralinda to Rattatak? Why Snap and Karé were currently on Akiva to talk Wedge Antilles and his wife Noora out of their hard earned peace and back into the trenches?

The Resistance was the light that stood between the galaxy and the First Order.

But what did it mean for him?

 _Be the light_.

If this was possible for any one person, Poe found that it would have been more fitting for somebody like Leia. Or Rey. Yes, the young Jedi girl was a light. A symbol of hope.

But him?

He was nobody's light. If the past weeks had proven anything at all, then it was that Poe Dameron wasn't even a leader. He was better off sitting in a cockpit and following the orders of others. Because when he took charge, people he cared about died.

_Be the light..._

The truth was, he had no idea what it meant. All that pondering had led him nowhere.

 _Literally_ , he thought dryly as he took in his surroundings, because if any place in the galaxy deserved that moniker, it was the planet Lok.

Lok made Tatooine look like the cradle of civilization and Jakku like the luscious spa world he had left just days ago.

The barren, dusty planet was located in the Karthakk system of the Outer Rim territory and was most commonly known for its sulfur pools, which gave the planet its distinctive - sometimes less and often times more prominent - stench and the old Imperial Outpost.

Once upon a time it had been a massive stronghold, designed and built to secure the Empire's reign over the lesser developed worlds. Today it was the perfect place to disappear.

The narrow streets and crowded marketplaces were swarming with bounty hunters, smugglers, former Imperial officers and rebels alike as well as pretty much every other kind of galactic bottom feeder imaginable.

But in recent history the region had also gained a reputation for its neutrality and rumour had it that more and more people had come to find refuge from the First Order's tightening grip on the core worlds. Last but not least, like all the galactic melting pots Lok was a trafficking spot for information.

What Maz had told him about the First Order taking people from the safety of their homes scared Poe, even though it wasn't by any means a new practice for them. For years they had been abducting children for their stormtrooper program - children like Finn - but making people just disappear in the dead of night, that was a whole new level of terror.

The eerie silence that had followed their cry for help on Crait was still ringing fresh in his mind and Poe would never forget the sickening feeling of hopelessness.

_They win by making you think you're alone._

Poe had told Zorii this on the day he had left to join the Resistance, but he had never grasped the whole truth of it until that very moment; waiting for Kylo Ren and his people to storm the base and kill them all as the whole galaxy stood by in silence.

He needed to know that it wasn't true. That the galaxy had not given up. That this war wasn't over. That they weren't alone.

Stench aside, Lok was a perfect place to start scavenging for answers. Or allies. Or blasters for hire. Poe found that at this point they couldn't really afford to be picky.

These were desperate times indeed.

  
  


"Stay close to me, buddy", he told BB-8 and pulled the hood of his coat further into his face before stepping out of the hangar and onto the street.

He knew that taking the droid was a risk. The First Order had put a handsome bounty on his head and, as far as something like this could be said about an astromech droid, BB-8 was pretty recognisable.

After leaving Ephemera, Poe had returned the borrowed starfighter to Grakkus the Hutt. It had been him who had suggested Poe go to Lok in the first place and the pilot had been grateful that someone had given him _somewhere_ to start.

The Hutt even supplied him with a dated freight ship, stating that what the old lady was lacking in speed and firepower, she'd be making up for in inconspicuousness.

Even if there was First Order on Lok - and a quick check Grakkus had run for him suggested there wasn't - they most likely weren't expecting the Resistance's most renowned combat pilot to arrive on a cargo ship.

Still, Poe wouldn't have been comfortable leaving BB-8 in the hangar by himself. He would've probably been safer alone than with Jess, who had been dubbed "The Destroyer" by Black Squadron's droids, but better to be safe than sorry.

Poe knew that he was likely a little too attached to his droid, but he didn't care. Wherever he went, BB-8 was coming, too.

It didn't take too long for Poe to realise that the old Imperial Outpost fit in perfectly with the planet's overall tristesse. The diversity in species and sheer number of people moving about the busy streets could have made for a colourful, bazaar like atmosphere, but instead the heavy walls of dirty brown allacrete made everything feel crowded to a point where it was almost claustrophobic. From deep cracks in those very same walls to even deeper potholes lining the streets, the whole place spoke of desolation and neglect. And over everything lay that terrible, _terrible_ smell.

Poe pulled his scarf more firmly around his mouth and nose - which sadly didn't do much to relieve his olfactory sense - and fought down the urge to turn around, get back into that freight ship and find both answers and allies in a place that was less disgusting.

He had hoped that his days of roaming the gutters of the galaxy were behind him. At least these days he was roaming them for a noble cause.

"Lead the way", he told BB-8. Grakkus, to exactly no one's surprise, had shown no particular interest in joining the fight or otherwise aiding the Resistance. In his line of 'business' every side of any war was a potential buyer and that was the extent of his investment in this conflict.

But he probably felt like he still owed Poe for saving him from Megalox Beta, so he had begrudgingly agreed to set him up with one of his informants and had provided the droid with the coordinates to a safe house where they were now supposed to meet.

_"This is where we part ways, Poe Dameron."_

Unlike Maz's, the Hutt's last words to him had been unmistakable in their finality and Poe understood with perfect clarity that his days milking that one favour to his advantage were finally over.

The closer Poe and BB-8 came to the centre of the outpost the more narrow the streets became; darker and more crowded. More than once Poe had to press against a wall or side step into a dimly lit doorway or back alley to avoid bumping into someone. He was starting to feel mildly claustrophobic and maybe even a little paranoid.

Poe cast a covert glance over his shoulder. He could have sworn someone was watching him… BB-8 let out a series of warning beeps, but it was too late.

He slammed into someone with enough force to send them flying backwards with a surprised little yelp – his reflexes and a firm grip on their wrists the only thing keeping them from falling over.

"I am so sorry, Sir!", the stranger cried as they scrambled to regain their balance. Poe tried to assess who he was facing, but on first glance he could only guess that they were presumably humanoid and quite a bit smaller than him; skinny extremities wrapped in ragged layers of clothes stiff with dirt.

Their head was completely covered by a long woollen shawl, masking their face while an odd pair of goggles with one cracked glass provided very little protection from both dirt and pollution and was most likely just a means of hiding their eyes.

"This is all my fault! I wasn't paying attention", they continued in surprisingly perfect Basic with only the tiniest hint of an accent that Poe wasn't able to place, while frantically patting his arms and chest, as if checking him for injuries. "Please, Mister. I am so, so sorry!"

Though dulled by the thick fabric covering their mouth, Poe could tell that their voice was soft, if maybe a little raspy. Definitely not a man's voice. Judging from their built and whole demeanour, Poe guessed that he was almost certainly facing a kid.

A street kid.

A street kid that had _just_ happened to bump into him and now wouldn't stop feeling him up...

BB-8 let out a single, somewhat indignant warning noise, but Poe was quick to silence him with a little wave of his hand. Playing dumb now could work out to his advantage.

"Don't worry, kid", he told them and gently grabbed them by alarmingly skinny shoulders to bring a little distance between the two of them.

"It's alright", he assured them with a smile that was just a little too cheerful to be honest. He hoped his opponent didn't notice. And that was what they had become - opponents.

Because while he might not have been particularly quick on the uptake, Poe knew a professional when he saw one.

Too bad that today this particular professional had picked the wrong target. True, the shadiest of Poe's days might have been long behind him, but he still knew better than to walk into a meeting with what was most likely a dangerous criminal – because who else would someone like Grakkus be setting him up with? - carrying any kind of valuables.

Whatever they would later agree on was a suitable prize for the information given, Poe had all his means of payment, except for some lose coin, stored safely in the cargo bay of his borrowed ship. The only two things of value he had with him were BB-8 and...

_No._

Before he could stop himself, Poe's hand had reached for the comforting weight around his neck. His heart fell when his hand found nothing where his mother's ring should have been.

Around them the stream of passersby moved along as if nothing was happening – and in the grand scheme of this place, it probably _was_ nothing – but there was a something like a subtle shift in the air around them and Poe knew that he had given himself away.

The thief's whole demeanour changed from submissive to guarded in the blink of an eye and even though their face was still mummed, Poe could tell that they were already weighing fight against flight. He didn't want to fight.

He'd seen enough poverty and hunger and hopelessness to understand there were places in the galaxy where the only way to get by was stealing from people who were just as miserable as oneself. He didn't want to fight someone, who in all probability was just hungry and desperate. But he also didn't want to let go of his mother's ring. He simply couldn't.

“Look, I don't want to hurt you”, he said, changing tune, while slowly raising both his hands in what he hoped was a universal gesture of peace and goodwill. “Give me that ring back and we can both be on our way. No harm, no foul.”

There was a long moment of silence – or maybe it was just a second, which seemed to stretch into a small eternity – where they were just standing there, watching, quietly gauging one another. Calculating chances. Flight it was.

_Of course._

Well, at least the thief tried to get away, but when they turned on their heels and took off in the opposite direction, BB-8 was already there, barrelling into their legs with a series of angry bleeps and so much force that they tumbled to the ground with a strangled cry on their lips. It was almost comical, but Poe hardly had time to appreciate it, because they were already scrambling to get back to their feet.

“Well done, buddy”, he commented as he leisurely closed the distance between them. He grabbed the little pickpocket – who had proven to be less of a professional than Poe had initially thought – by the arm to help them up. Big mistake.

“Let go of me!” A sharp cry, followed by a hearty swing that only missed his head by a hair.

“Oh, come on”, Poe groaned. “Didn't you hear me say _no harm no foul_?”

He tried to reach around the thief's tiny frame to pin their arms down against their sides, but it was like trying to gather quicksilver with his bare hand.

They were cussing Poe out like a full-grown bastard, writhing in his arms and kicking about until he lost his footing on the uneven ground and stumbled backwards, pulling the other one with him. They both fell over in a mess of limps and muffled curses.

He hit the ground hard with his back and a painfully pointy elbow knocked what little air he had left right out of him. Thankfully the sharp pain worked like a catalyst and _finally_ some of his fighting skills and instincts kicked in, so that he somehow managed to wrestle his way on top of the squirming thief.

“I really don't have time for this”, he ground out in an exasperated huff, pinning them down by the shoulders. “Now give me that ring.”

And that's when he saw it.

The shawl around their head had come loose in the scuffle. The goggles were gone, too; laying a few feet away in the dirt.

A curtain of matted, brown hair was now framing a pair of staggeringly captivating dark eyes. Human eyes in a human face that was so lovely, not even layers of grime were able to tarnish it. A lovely face, which Poe could have sworn he had seen before.

“You're a girl!”

His grip on her shoulders loosened immediately as he stared down at her in disbelief. Sure, she had been disguised beyond recognition, but he had _not_ seen this coming. How hadn't he even entertained the idea that this was a possibility?

 _Typical male arrogance_ , a small voice in his head taunted and he would've sworn it sounded a little like General Organa. Or a lot.

“Wrong”, she gave back matter-of-factly and it took Poe just a moment too long to notice the little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips and the dangerous glint in those fascinating eyes. What was it about those eyes? “I'm a woman.”

Her knee connected firmly with his groin and he dropped to his side like a felled tree.

This time there was no coming back. When Poe had managed to get back on his feet, the girl – _woman_ – had already merged with the faceless mass of people passing them by. She was gone.

With his mother's ring.

BB-8 circled him, his beeps growing more frantic by the minute as he urged his master to follow her. Poe placed a calming hand on his head.

“Let it go, buddy”, he told him, even though deep down he was heartbroken. He had promised his mother to hold on to this ring, until... Now it was gone and Poe felt like he had broken that last promise.

“Come on”, Poe said, swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat. “We have somewhere to be...”


End file.
